And chosen he was
by MJLupin27
Summary: King Edmund faces his first audience after the coronation and the angst appears. How could Aslan choose him to be King?


**Hello, dear fellows. I had been thinking of something like this for quite a long while. I read once in a story how Edmund began to study narnian history and law, and reading a lot in general. It was about him becoming wise, the one who everyone asked for advice. This story didn't turn out to be what I was planning at all, but it felt nice to try to get a crack at it. Maybe I'll try in another time to get to what I really had envisioned. But, as of now, I'll share this with you.**

 **Edited by Forever-Tangled.**

Eleven year old Edmund Pevensie was definitely feeling overwhelmed. He hadn't been able to sleep at all last night after the whole Coronation banquet, and his day had been positively dreadful. Walking down a hall, faking yet another smile for a passing cheetah, he felt the angst climbing up his throat. Just a few days earlier he had been a traitor to the Narnian people, and now he had to rule them? Aslan had been supremely merciful, and he felt unbearably thankful, but the whole thing threaded to eat him alive. And now, to add to his misery, he had to make a judgment after the first public audience he'd ever had in his life.

The dwarf people were composed by several groups, he had learnt that very day. Two of these groups were having a conflict so big they were about to start a war. While the White Witch was queen, they had kept the problem quiet, accepting the mediation of a beaver who had done his best to appease them. But this had no longer sufficed, and the drained beaver had begged the assistance of the crown.

He and his siblings had decided that each would have a day to hold audiences, and today it came down to him to meet their people. He had been uncomfortable; worried that someone would reject his authority due to his past wrongdoings. At first he could see that some were disappointed that he was the one present, but at the end they all had approached him to expose their situations. But the most urgent matter was this one, for a battle could imminently occur.

It felt rather awful having to decide what to do when he hadn't been the brightest in the unreflective alliance with the White Witch. He had lives put in his hands right now, how could he make a good decision if he hadn't discerned correctly before? How could Aslan choose him for such thing, he gasped.

Reaching an inner garden of Cair Paravel, he stopped for a second and tried to calm down with a deep breath. He tried not to cry, even though he desperately wanted to. Tears wouldn't get him out of this, nothing could. He would be trapped in his mistakes for the rest of his life. He was going to be a terrible King to the people who had been entrusted to him.

He was going to be just like _her._

Slowly, painfully, he let himself fall to the floor. In his mind he kept saying to Aslan how he couldn't be king. He remained there for hours on end, just sitting against the wall with his knees close to his chest and his head hidden between his arms. The tears eventually were allowed to appear. It was hard to admit, even just in thought, how he'd fail the one who had given him another chance.

The night came, and darkness surrounded him. The thought of hunger never even crossed his mind. But something did get his attention. After being quietly by his own for so long, a soft noise was finally heard near him. It came from a room nearby, his eyes caught the soft light of candles dripping through the door. He had never seen that room, he realized, and the curiosity grew in his heart.

Wiping the tears with his sleeve, he rose and walked towards it, carefully entering the room.

A badger startled upon his arrival.

-Your Majesty!- the animal gasped and bowed hastily.

Edmund watched the badger's delicate glasses falling to the floor and the poor animal fumbling around to get them, trying not to drop several books he held in his arms. After some uncomfortable seconds, the young King approached him and placed the glasses in the badger's paw.

-Who are you, if I may ask? - Edmund whispered, trying to be polite.

-I'm Trufflehon, y-your Majesty. I'm the librarian. I-I have been for the last fifty years.- the being answered anxiously.- I apologize for the intrusion, my liege.-

Edmund scowled, feeling confused as the badger slouched worriedly.

-I was the one who arrived without notice; you have nothing to apologize for.-

The badger was surprised to hear this, and was startled again when the King moved to slowly explore his surroundings.

-What is this place?- Edmund whispered.

It was, no doubt, a library; but he had never seen one so downright majestic. The bookcases were made of wood, richly carved and ornamented. All sorts of books, big and small, with beautiful covers were carefully filling the places. Edmund felt calmer just from appreciating the view.

-The royal library, my King. It has everything you could ever wish to read, Narnians pride themselves in the comprehensiveness of the collection.- Trufflehon answered nervously.

Edmund walked slowly through the halls, certainly impressed. And then he saw it. He knew for sure he was in the right place.

A huge canvas hung pridefully in the wall. It was Aslan, gloriously portrayed, a majestic and soft expression in his face. Edmund felt hope rise in his chest, he suddenly felt braver. Even a small smiled began to tug on his lip.

-Who placed that painting in there?- the young King asked.

-Aslan asked for it before he left, your Majesty.- Trufflehon said, swallowing hard.

The badger startled yet again as the King turned to face him.

-I don't know if the White Witch was ever unkind to you- Edmund said, and Trufflehon painfully averted his eyes.- she was to me, you know. But I want to be different from her. And I'll take that painting in there as a sign that I can be. I don't know what to do, or where to start but I can try.-

Trufflehon saw a small smile appear in his King's face. He had never seen the White Witch smile, unless you counted a malicious grin that could in an instant bristled his whole fur.

But right then and there, he could see the rising of a different monarch, one that wouldn't leave furless marks on his skin due to lashes. And just as his King, he felt a small seed of hope being planted in his heart.


End file.
